


like catalysts, we make things happen

by BlackEyedGirl



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Cohabitation, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Polyamory, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackEyedGirl/pseuds/BlackEyedGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce is counting time. Tony is making a graph. None of this can be plotted in three dimensions but that doesn't mean it can't be understood. [Bruce/Tony, background Tony/Pepper and Bruce/Betty, all informed]</p>
            </blockquote>





	like catalysts, we make things happen

Bruce looks up and up at the rebuilt exterior of Stark Tower. Tony still hasn’t fixed the lettering. Tony doesn’t own a car with a scratch on it, or a suit that hasn’t been custom-made, but there is still just the one battered letter on the side of the building. Bruce is not a psychologist. 

He walks into the lobby. He should have called in advance. Bruce doesn’t know what he would have said – Tony isn’t the easiest person to communicate with by telephone – but as far as he is from civilised life Bruce does still know that you can’t just leave the country for months and then reappear without so much as a heads-up.

The doorman meets his eyes and nods. “Good morning, Dr Banner. You can take the elevator to your right.”

“I don’t need a…?” 

“Mr Stark’s elevator is keyed to your prints, sir.”

Bruce digests that. He had always been coming in and out with Tony before, usually from above or below the building. He crosses the lobby to the elevator marked ‘Private’. There is a touchpad at the side of the door, and no buttons or labels. He presses his hand against it tentatively. The door opens without a sound and Bruce steps inside.

JARVIS says, “Dr Banner. Welcome back.” The doors close and the elevator starts to rise.

“Is Tony...?” Bruce asks.

“Mr Stark is currently indisposed.”

“I should go.”

“Standing orders are to show you into the labs or the kitchen, whichever you appear to be most in need of. Sir.”

Bruce looks up at the camera he knows is there. “So where are you showing me?”

JARVIS doesn’t have a sense of humour precisely, but he replies, “I will order breakfast. I believe you know where to find the coffee pot?”

Bruce does. Bruce spent two days in Tony’s place after the battle, and then left for three months. He came back because SHIELD was remarkably persistent in their attempts to pass him a message that his particular brand of chaos was required. After that fight he stayed with Tony for three days. He has been gone for six months.

Tony stirs at around two pm. He heads past Bruce to the coffee machine, pours himself a cup, drains half, and blinks. “Bruce.”

“Hi.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.” He wouldn’t have been sure of that this morning, but Tony has newspapers delivered to the apartment, despite the fact that he presumably hasn’t read print media in years.

“Excellent,” Tony says. “Stay through the weekend this time. I have to give a speech to the board tomorrow – I need something to look forward to.”

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

Tony shrugs. “If it wasn’t, the elevator would have locked you out.”

Bruce doesn’t know if things are simpler with Tony or so much more complicated that a whole system has been designed to make them understandable. The second would fit Tony more than the first.

Tony is looking at him. “Maybe say ‘bye’ before you leave next time?”

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m just saying, I had great plans for you, me, Pepper and a jet to Venice. Maybe Rhodey too if I could trick the Air Force into not noticing I was kidnapping him.”

“Does that usually work?”

“You’d be amazed what you can get away with by being me.”

“I probably wouldn’t.”

Tony smiles at him. “Stay the weekend and find out.”

 

***

 

Some people, when they’re frustrated, mutter things under their breath. Tony comes back from his board meeting in an active – loud - argument with JARVIS, the elevator (independently of JARVIS) and the long-dead ancestors of the members of his board who would apparently never have pulled this shit with Howard Stark.

When he sees Bruce, Tony stops for a moment. “You get it, right?”

“Fuck Big Oil?” Bruce suggests, since that seems to be the gist of the problem.

“Exactly!” Tony says. “Fuck all of them. Fossil fuels are so last- they’re not even last century, they’re _nineteenth century_. Some of us think maybe we should be looking a little further ahead than twenty-sixteen. And if this works, they won’t need to care what-.” He takes a breath. “How do you feel about Rome?”

“I’ve traditionally run to places a little less... populated. Or full of tightly-packed, ancient, breakable buildings.”

“Most buildings are pretty breakable when you get near them, pal, let’s be honest.”

“Tony.”

“Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I wasn’t talking about running, just a few days out of the city. No? Okay, your loss. But we’re still ordering pizza. JARVIS? One all veggie, one all meat. Make it happen.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony prods the back of Bruce’s shoulder, unselfconscious as ever about the physical contact. “Come look at this. I need to talk science with someone who doesn’t make me want to kill things.”

Bruce lets himself be moved. In Tony’s lab, there is still a chair behind an extra bench, and a connection to a computer simulation for radiation shielding that Bruce had started fiddling with the last time he was here. He leaves that for the moment and focuses on what Tony is trying to tell him.

 

***

 

Bruce is a light sleeper. This has been true for as long as he can remember: it predates the Hulk. Tony kept him awake until four a.m. the night before, throwing idea after idea about the power sources for the jet he is redesigning. Tony had a Monday-morning meeting with SHIELD about them. Bruce doesn’t know how he squares not working with the military with consulting with SHIELD about planes but Tony has drawn some line in his head and decided this is allowable. 

Bruce had woken up that morning when Tony left, the weekend done and feeling like he should be moving on. He made breakfast, paged through a set of blueprints Tony had left lying in the lounge, and managed to fall asleep again.

Later that afternoon he wakes up, most of the way, because Tony has got back and is talking to JARVIS. “Is Bruce still here? Or do I need to put another point on the graph? What does this make it?”

“Doctor Banner is still in the building,” JARVIS answers. “I believe he is sleeping.”

“Seriously?” Tony lowers his voice. “What’s the proverb about poking sleeping scientists, I can never remember?” His footsteps get closer.

Bruce opens his eyes. “You shouldn’t try and startle me awake.”

“Well, no, because you’re already awake now. So that would be an exercise in pointlessness.”

Bruce holds Tony’s gaze. “I’m being serious, Tony. When I’m- when I’m awake, and aware, it’s fine, but if you do that kind of thing when I’m...” He runs his hand over his eyes. “I don’t always have the best dreams. I can’t promise I wouldn’t...” It wouldn’t be the first time he had come back to himself somewhere different than the place he fell asleep.

Whatever Tony is seeing, he nods. “Sure. Hard limit, I can deal with that.”

Bruce nods.

“So,” Tony says. “You’re awake now.” He pokes Bruce in the chest. “Come with me.”

 

***

 

“Ms Potts is coming upstairs,” JARVIS says.

Bruce had wondered, originally, where Pepper was. Tony talks about her frequently but she had never been in the Tower at the same time as Bruce. Bruce had wondered if that was by choice, but this current visit was unannounced and she had still been absent.

He had asked Tony, days ago. Tony had to stop to think about it. “She’s in... Paris? Prague? Somewhere with a P.”

“Business?”

“Well, Pepper enjoys crushing the local heads of Stark Enterprises under her pointy heels, so the business-pleasure distinction is a little hazy.”

Bruce had only met Pepper very briefly, somewhere between shawarma and a SHIELD debrief. She had kissed Tony and then waved her phone in his face while holding a whispered argument with him. Then she had turned and said, “You must be Bruce. Thank you for looking out for him.” She had still been holding on tightly to Tony’s hand.

So it had seemed a reasonable question to ask later, to wonder why two people so tangled in love as Tony and Pepper manage to be in the same place so rarely. Bruce’s own circumstances had not been by choice. Tony had knocked his fist on the desk before he said, “Pepper and I are comp- no, fuck it.”

“Sorry?”

“Pepper and me make sense to Pepper and me.”

“Okay.”

“Just because other people think that it’s- we work. We’re not all the things to each other but we’re enough of them to make it work. I don’t get how- how can anyone be someone else’s everything? I don’t get how that works.” He sounds more confused than Bruce has ever heard Tony be.

Bruce had thought to be one person’s everything, once. And then he thought he could have nothing of her at all. What he has now is the occasional coded message, one secret meeting in ten months, and the nagging thought that Tony would help him have more if he asked. Bruce doesn’t know if that would be considered ‘complicated’, but he wouldn’t relinquish it for anything simple. He wouldn’t want Betty not to have someone for all those spaces Bruce doesn’t fill, but he won’t remove himself from the edges he has still drawn in her life. Not unless she asks him to.

The door slides open. Pepper walks in and leans over the workbench. She kisses Tony’s cheek and then makes a face. “Tony.”

“What?”

She sketches a shape in the air, indicating Tony’s general face and torso area. “Do I want to know?” She rummages inside her purse and comes back with a wet wipe, or a make-up removal wipe, whichever a woman like Pepper is more likely to carry around with her.

Pepper turns to look at Bruce. She laughs. “I take it you two haven’t had company lately?” She passes Bruce another wipe.

Bruce swipes it across his face, checking in the surface of the bench to see if he has removed whatever she’s looking at. He catches the eyes of Tony’s reflection, looking that way too. They’re both covered in grease – Tony is in full hardware mode right now, taking apart a jet – and Bruce is wearing one of Tony’s shirts after his own got sprayed with something potentially hazardous.

Tony answers Pepper, still looking at Bruce. “Nope, no guests, just me and Bruce at home. And you, now. Have I convinced anyone on the European long weekend yet?”

“You don’t think we should finish this first?” Bruce nods at the parts scattered across the lab.

“And I’m just back from Paris,” Pepper observes. “I have things to talk to you about.”

“Sure, fine.” He tosses one of the stained wipes at Bruce’s shoulder. “But the two of you are no fun at all.”

Pepper orders them all takeout and sits cross-legged on the couch at the side of the lab. She fills Tony in on the latest from Stark Europe, explaining the context to Bruce as she goes along. Bruce is never clear on how much Tony is listening to, but he answers the questions Pepper asks him, so he must be hearing the important parts. 

 

***

 

“Where did you go,” Tony asks, “when you weren’t here?” It’s the first time he’s asked. He hadn’t asked the last time Bruce visited either, after the other guy went and it was just Bruce sitting naked in a crater in the ground. Tony had thrown a SHIELD jacket at him and leered amicably, before calling a car to take them both back to the Tower.

“You don’t know?” Bruce asks in response. Tony would deny it if Fury asked but he has a kind of Avengers alert system running in the background of his thin displays. Mostly it’s Rogers, and various sightings of him in and out of costume around the city. It flags a few times for interstellar activity that doesn’t mention Thor by name. The other times are small mentions of unsuspicious accidents that may or may not be traceable back to the people who may or may not have made them happen.

Tony says, “This stuff can only track you so far, the places you look to be heading. You don’t leave much of a digital footprint, and while your alter ego leaves a pretty impressive physical version, you... not so much.”

It should be gratifying – it has always been Bruce’s intent to keep a low profile, never mind that SHIELD, with their superiority of numbers, has apparently managed to keep him tagged. 

Tony goes on, “I mean, I tried to keep an eye out, because better me than the frankly terrifying General Ross – now there is a man who even SHIELD considers to be dangerously paranoid and out of control – but I’d lose you for weeks.”

“Only weeks?”

Tony hums. “Twenty-four days was the longest. That’s still ‘weeks’, right?”

Bruce says, “You didn’t ever try contacting me.”

“I figured if you didn’t want to be found, you probably didn’t want to chat either.”

“You just liked knowing where I was.”

“Sure.” Tony stops. “Not in a SHIELD way. Just in a ‘man, you never know when you’re going to need a genius biochemist-slash-nuclear physicist-slash-.”

“Rage monster?”

Tony shrugs. “Slash drinking buddy. You’re a man of many talents.”

“Most of the time, people are only interested in one of them.” Or that’s the one they’re eventually interested in, no matter which one they claim at the start.

Tony says, “I can’t believe I have to remind you of this, but: I am not most people.”

 

* **

 

Bruce isn’t always sure of the date. He counts days without incident, though he is no longer so dedicated in that regard. Now, he knows that he’s been at Stark Tower for three months, longer than he has stayed in any one place since the accident. That’s the thought that surprises him, not the way that the television blithely informs them both that tomorrow will be one year since the Chitauri invasion. 

“What, seriously?” Tony asks. 

The newsreader, predictably, doesn’t answer him. 

Bruce never remembers much of what happens when the other guy comes out to play. He has no memory at all of catching Tony in mid-air, though he dreams often of watching him fall. In these dreams, Tony is almost never in the suit; sometimes Bruce watches from behind Hulk’s eyes as he drops, sometimes he catches Tony with huge hands that only serve to break him. 

The next day, New York throws a party. Tony vanishes somewhere in the afternoon; he doesn’t ask Bruce to come with him this time. He’s back by the evening, crashing onto a spot on the couch beside Bruce.

They do a local news section on the parties and parades and ‘thank God we had something left to rebuild’ celebrations. And there are all these people in costume like them. 

Tony grins at the women in makeshift armour with glowing blue light between their breasts. He grins more at the twelve year old who claims he’s going to make his own flying suit just as soon as he can get his parents to pay for his place at Science Camp. Tony makes a note. “JARVIS, look that kid up. We can afford to fund a few more scholarships.”

There are groups of all-women teams, and one which has five women and one shy-looking red headed guy in leather along with them. Bruce wonders a little how Natasha feels about that.

There is a boy of maybe six, wearing a bright green t-shirt and a mask, who tells the reporter that he likes being the Hulk because he gets to smash the bad guys who want to hurt the good guys.

Tony says, “Mini-you is adorable.” Another green figure walks onscreen. “Wow. And hopefully-legal you has her own charms.”

This one has painted all of her visible skin green, under a black vest and cut-off shorts. Bruce is betting theatre-major, but dance is another possibility. She says, “I don’t know, I guess I just- when my friends said we should go in costume, I knew right away. I do this thing where- when I come back late from class or something and I cut through the park on my own, when it’s dark? I do the ‘What Would the Hulk Do?’ thing. Because he doesn’t have to be scared of anything. And I thought... that would be nice. Not to have to be afraid.” She smiles, but it takes a moment to hold firm.

Tony and Bruce watch the screen for a while. 

Bruce says, “There are things I’m afraid of.”

“I know.”

“You think it matters?”

“Being scared, or that scared kids think you aren’t?” Tony is making more notes on his phone now. “I don’t know. Maybe it would be better, for the role-model shit, if they know that we’re all terrified and doing it anyway. But maybe it’s better if they don’t.” He bumps Bruce’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s better if we’re heroes to the freaks and geeks who always got their asses kicked, maybe they start to come up fighting. Or maybe they’re just less screwed up than we are.”

“You think?”

“Honestly, I think most of the people who end up doing this kind of thing are a little screwy. But we do okay. And while no one in their right mind has ever accused me of being any kind of role model, I think there are worse examples out there than you.”

Bruce suspects a list of worse examples would be a short one. 

What he remembers of the battle a year ago is mostly limited to flashes and glimpses in nightmare. Mostly, but not entirely. He remembers the moment he made a conscious decision to change. He remembers the moment just before, Cap calling Bruce’s arrival to Tony. Tony who had just been waiting.

Bruce is not a hero. He only has to look at Steve to know that. For all that Tony claims to be Steve’s opposite – one foot in the future when Steve has one foot in the past – Bruce is the true opposite. What turned Steve into a hero turned Bruce into a monster. And still Tony had thought he was the cavalry, riding in on that bike and hoping that he would manage what he had never managed before. There isn’t much to call between the anger and the fear, but the other guy makes better use of the first than Bruce has ever managed of the second. He doesn’t think either of them is much to be celebrating.

 

*** 

 

Bruce still doesn’t know how Tony decides when to put on the suit. He knows about the times Tony had no choice, when he was pulled into a battle he hadn’t planned. He doesn’t know what it is that calls Tony into it the rest of the time. Tony looks for trouble and the thing about the world they live in - there’s never any difficulty finding some. 

An alert pings on the screen nearest Tony, an explosion half way around the world and that’s enough to send him running. He looks at Bruce for a second before heading out of the door and Bruce turns his face away.

Tony gets back two days later with new bruises and a crack that runs from the shoulder of the armour down to his hip. He takes it down into the workshop and Bruce follows. Tony turns on a news channel and leaves it on low. He tears out a panel from the armour; Bruce watches the screen. Tony did some real damage.

“My mother was a pacifist,” Tony says out of nowhere.

Bruce looks over. “Sorry?”

“People asked, you know, when I shut down weapons manufacturing, what my dad would think. My father the hero, who won the war by building the biggest stick – what would he think of his son turning squeamish?”

“Tony.”

“And I keep thinking, well why don’t you ask whether my mom would- I was awful to her.”

“I’m sure that’s not-.”

“It’s the- when you’re a kid, you want what you can’t have, right? So when dear old dad’s always passing you off onto mom, who’s never too busy for you, she’s pretty clearly the second choice.”

That wasn’t exactly Bruce’s experience, but he and Tony had different childhoods. Bruce had done his utmost to stay away from places he wasn’t wanted. The places he is wanted – him, not the other guy – are few and far between, but he thinks lately that there is one more place on the list.

Tony says, “If I could ask her- you know what she left behind when she was gone? She founded schools and hospitals. She sat on boards and told people they needed to take care of their soldiers because she met these men coming off the back of a war and-. She fell for this guy who was so unbelievably screwed up, who spent the last thirty years of his life trying to balance out the things in the twenty before, but the tech wasn’t going to exist for another thirty after that. And she went right on loving him anyway. So that’s the part I wonder about.”

Tony doesn’t say it out loud – whether he wonders how she did it, or if she would have kept on loving him too. Tony always seems to be pulled in two directions, between the things he is better at than anyone else and the ones he wants to be remembered for doing. Bruce wonders if perhaps that had been part of the reason Howard Stark had worked so hard on the other things after the war, if Maria had inspired him to leave a different kind of legacy. Bruce has heard a clip of Tony snorting derisively about baby hospitals but the work he’s doing in clean energy could genuinely change the world for the better. Tony must know that. 

Bruce intercepts Dummy on the way to Tony. He wraps the heat-pack and goes to press it against Tony’s shoulder.

Tony looks down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Dilating blood vessels. Basic bruise care. I know biology isn’t your area but you are still a scientist.”

After a beat, Tony raises his eyebrow. “My question stands.”He nods at Bruce’s arm, bent at the wrist to hold the heat-pack on.

Bruce is just doing the part he knows how to do.

 

***

Bruce can’t be what Tony wants. Tony has found a way of compromising between contracting for the military and not wanting his name on the bombs terrorising innocents. Bruce doesn’t have that halfway place. There is either him or the other guy, and no space between.

“That’s bullshit,” Tony says, hard. “I could have used your help today and instead you’re... I don’t even know.”

“You didn’t need me.” Tony and the SHIELD air support had managed just fine. The city is still standing.

“No, I didn’t need you but I wanted-.” He stops. “Fine, it’s fine. I’m just tired of my things being... Pepper’s fine too, thanks for asking.” Stark operations are becoming targets inside the country and out.

“I spoke to Pepper already,” Bruce says. “She says you need to take a break.” She said she would be back tomorrow but she needed to do damage control today because Tony wasn’t able to do it. Pepper is experienced in taking meetings and facing press conferences with explosions still ringing in her ears. Tony does not have her equilibrium. Neither does Bruce.

“I don’t have time for a break,” Tony says. They were this close to...” He crosses one arm defensively across his chest, blocking the light of the reactor. “I need to make this better.”

Bruce idles in front of his workbench for a few minutes, watching Tony move wireframes in the air. When he leaves, Tony doesn’t look up.

 

***

After six months in Stark Tower, five and a half without incident, Bruce starts counting again. Three days in thick forest, two on the beach, and an unknown span in the middle. The other guy is jumpier out here than he was in New York. Maybe it’s Bruce. There is no in-between space but there is more flow than he had ever understood before. He wakes curled up at the foot of a cliff, watching the waves go out. 

Bruce had accumulated more possessions since spending time with Tony, and though he had left most of them behind, he has managed to carry a bag with him the whole way. There is a phone buried in the bottom of it, turned off and wrapped up in a shirt. 

He doesn’t need to check it. If SHIELD needs him - actually needs him, not just as a useful shortcut – they will find him without it. They have proved that before. Bruce turns it on all the same. There is a message from Pepper, asking him to check in when he’s settled. Nothing from Tony. Bruce replies to Pepper, letting her know that he’s fine. She won’t believe him, but she won’t push. She is a strong believer in letting people take their time.

Bruce starts to sketch an equation in the sand; it may be washed away when the tide comes in again but it hardly matters. He doesn’t want to stop – Tony is the only other person he knows who might understand it, but Bruce has become used to working again. He isn’t like Tony – he will never make a miracle out of nothing in the wilderness – but he can keep thinking the problem through. The important thing is to keep going.

Bruce moves further up the beach when the skies start to get darker, settling in for the night. He doesn’t mean to check the phone again, but it is in his hands before he realises. He turns it off again and hides it in the bag, pulling that to his chest. He sleeps.

 

***

Bruce wakes up to the sound of a voice, muttering low and changing position around him. He wakes up slowly, not alarmed. “Tony?”

Tony is holding a piece of driftwood. “I’m not sure about your decay constant here.”

“This is what you woke me up to tell me.” Bruce wipes his eyes.

“I didn’t wake you up,” Tony says quickly. “You said- you were clear on that one. No poking. But you kept turning on the phone.”

“I did.”

“And I figured, if you didn’t want me to find you, you wouldn’t be doing that. Because you are so very far from that stupid, Banner.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Tony sighs and stares up at the sky. “You really fuck with my graphs, you know that? Six months, I thought maybe we’d topped out and you were actually going to stick around.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not- I mean, go if you need to go. But I don’t get the never telling anybody thing. Or the way I can’t- I can never work out when it’s going to happen. And don’t say it’s nothing to do with me, because I don’t think that’s true.” He scratches another addition to Bruce’s equation, working around the parts which have eroded away. “I’ll fix it, or try to fix it, if you... Yeah.”

Bruce says, “It’s not that.”

“So what is it?”

“You go running into the fight. Even when it doesn’t need to be you, even when other people think they could do it better. They couldn’t, probably, but it’s not your fight and you go anyway. If I start doing that, if I give him that much sway... I don’t know how long it would be before he took over. And I’m not ready to lose that fight yet. Not when I’m starting to-.”

“Yeah?” Tony prompts. 

Bruce has more to lose now, more than in any time since he finally accepted that he was never going to find a cure for this, never going to be able to go back and marry her. “You want them both, and I don’t know if I can do that.” The first time Tony saw him change was the easiest switch Bruce has ever made, and it is not always like that. It had scared him, afterwards, how easy it had been. Changing back was still something not of his volition. The other guy gets bored, or needs to sleep, and Bruce wakes up. He doesn’t know what will happen if he makes it easy.

Tony frowns. “I’m a selfish bastard, Bruce, I try to have everything. But that doesn’t mean- I don’t think keeping the other guy locked up the whole time is going to work out well for either of you but if it did...”

“What?”

“None of us are everything to everybody. If I didn’t make that clear before...” Tony trails off, as though he thought about an apology but decided that wasn’t the important piece of information. He says, “He’s part of you too but he’s not the thing I- I want whatever bit of you that you want to give me. Simple enough, yeah?”

It’s simple in the way that a double helix is simple, the way a Fibonacci spiral is simple. Simple things can rewrite the universe.

Tony’s fingers have sand on them when they brush against Bruce’s face. He has never been afraid to touch. Tony’s hand slides to the back of Bruce’s neck. This is a different piece of him. Bruce leans back on the beach and when he touches Tony’s arm, Tony follows him down. 

 

***

 

They land back on the roof of Stark Tower. 

Bruce looks over the edge. “Did you ever think of building a home that wasn’t one hundred and fifty stories high? Given your dangerous propensity to fall or be pushed out of things?”

Tony grins. “One way or another, I haven’t hit the ground yet.”

Bruce has nightmares about Tony tumbling from the sky and no help coming. But that’s not what happened. In reality, where it counted, he had counted too. 

Tony is looking at him. “You can’t bolt again yet, we haven’t even made it inside. I have plans that go beyond a fairly sandy second base.”

Bruce doesn’t know how long he’ll manage this time. There are no clocks, and Tony wouldn’t believe him even if he made the promise. He starts the count again anyway. They’re intelligent guys - they’ll keep reinventing themselves until the world finally goes dark around them. That’s what evolution means to people like them. In the meantime, this is another day one. He says, “Make your plans, I’m here now. Let’s go inside.”


End file.
